Sitting, waiting
by ZBBZL
Summary: "We're not married, Deeks. We're partners. You don't get to pull that "Until death do us part" crap on me! You hear me ? So wake up, right now!". KD.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is a new story. I never thought I'd really write something else than **_A twist of fate_ **because that story just popped into my head and I thought once I would've finished it, I'd go back to just reading. But I guess that once you've started, you can't stop, right ? So I hope you'll like it.**

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><p>She has heard it many times, that stuff about stages of grief. But Kensi has never believed in that jazz. Whenever her life falls apart, whenever she walks on shaky grounds, she remembers what her dad always said; what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So she stands a little taller and goes on. That's what she has always done, that's what she's used to. And if there's one thing Kensi takes comfort in, it's habits.<p>

Not this time, though.

They say the first stage is denial. She's not in denial, she just knows him. He knows better than to die on her. So what if a bullet pierced him right by the heart ? What if he lost so much blood she literally saw him pooling in an ocean of red ? He will make it. He has to, anyway. That's not denial, that's faith; _trust_. Hetty, Sam and Callen lectured them enough about the crucial need to place trust in each other, they can't blame her now.

"You're not dying, Deeks, you hear me ? _You're not dying_", she tells him, her tone firm. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in the uncomfortable chair by his bed, facing away from him. "You're not dying. Your timing always sucks but I'm telling you, today is not the day you die."

They agree with each other on very few, almost rare times. He _always_ says black if she said white first. Arguing is their own personal way to communicate. They fight sometimes, they bicker playfully; banter is what they do, who they are. Sam and Callen always seem to be on the same page and it's annoying; this honeymoon phase just makes them sick. They're like kindergarten kids, always getting on the nerves of the one they won't ever dare to admit they like. It's their _thing_. So it's really hard for Kensi to talk alone and not have him answer back, _fight_ back.

"So what, Deeks ? You don't have any good excuse for why you're always late ? No "I'm not late, it's time that's early" ?", she sighs. "You can't seem to be able to stop talking and for once I want you to talk, you don't ?"

Kensi finally turns to look at him, and she instantly wishes she hadn't. This Deeks – he's not _her_ Deeks. His skin is so pale it's almost scary – who is she kidding, it _is_ scary. Her Deeks is all about golden toffee from hair to skin whereas this one just lays there, as white as the bed sheets. Even his hair seems darker as he's been away from the sun for two whole days.

Two whole days spent lying in this bed, monitored by annoying beeping machines, intubated. She knows he needs it to breathe, but she so would want him not to look like he's on his deathbed it's driving her crazy. She'd give anything to feel his breath on her skin, tickling that sensitive spot she has behind her ear that he had found one day, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was doing on her laptop. _Anything_.

Not that she would tell anyone.

She's startled by the sound of the door opening and she's up in a second, her gun pointed at a scared, wide-eyed nurse.

"I'm just here to change his bandages, Agent Blye", the young woman says, raising her open palms in front of her.

"Sorry", Kensi says, pulling her gun back to its place. "I'm just a bit – just do your thing. You need me to leave ?"

"No, you can stay", the nurse tells her. "I know you don't want to leave his side."

"That's not true."

She says it a little too harsh and fast to be convincing, and the nurse's eyes just go wider. "I didn't mean anything", she quickly adds. "I just meant that this is your partner, it's perfectly understandable that you'd want to stick with him."

This doesn't seem to help, so the nurse just drops the subject and carefully pulls at the bandages around Deeks's chest. Kensi looks away, part of her unable to look at the bullet wound, the memory of the bullet piercing the air and his skin still too fresh in her mind. And maybe there's the slightest part that thinks that he looks hotter when rugged.

Just the tiniest part, obviously.

"Here, he's all good now. Do you need someone to take a look at your head, Agent Blye ?"

"No, I'm fine". There's just a killer headache drumming and pulsing through her veins, but no one needs to know.

"You're sure ? It won't take long. You have a nasty cut."

"It doesn't hurt. And it's not like I do much in here, right ? I've spent the day in that chair, I'm not going anywhere."

Denial ? No. Misleading, maybe.

"I can have a cot in here for you if you want, it's no big deal", the nurse offers her again, since she's been there for two days, barely dozing off every now and then in the chair.

Kensi refuses once again. She's not tired, she's not hungry, her head is spinning but she won't ever admit it. She'll sit on that chair till the moment he wakes up, and if everyone could stop trying to convince her otherwise, then maybe she'd feel better.

But she just smiles politely and sinks back into her chair, watching the nurse arrange Deeks's pillow before exiting the room. She closes her eyes for a second, and her voice is barely a whisper when she speaks: "Come on, Deeks. Just wake up already. I know you're stubborn but no one is _that_ stubborn, uh ? Not even me. Just wake up and tell me it's one of your lame jokes."

She doesn't say _please_, but it's on the tip of her tongue. She presses her eyes firmly shut for a couple of minutes, determined not to open them until he does something. Speak, move a finger, choke on the tubing; _anything_.

"We can't be here again, Deeks. It's been what – just over a year since you were shot, right ? You want to celebrate it or what ? You're gonna get shot every year just so we remember it ? People have birthdays for that, you know."

This can't be real. The Deeks she knows would never let her mock him like this without saying a thing. There _can't_ be a world in which Marty Deeks doesn't talk. Maybe there shouldn't. Not that she would ever tell him she wants to hear his voice. Or maybe she already did.

She did. She did say she wanted him to talk for once, and he said nothing. He remained motionless, speechless, almost lifeless on that bed. What's wrong with the guy ?

"You know what ? I'm just gonna get going. After all, you're not dying, so why would I stay here all day long ? It's not like you're the greatest company."

Kensi gets up and gathers her stuff, and she leaves the room without even a last look at him. She hears the nurse calling out her name as she strolls down the hallway but she doesn't turn back. Callen did say she was either to stay at the hospital or back at her place, but she doesn't care. It's her partner lying in that bed back there, so there's nothing Callen can do to stop her from taking the man who did this to him down.

What does Callen think, anyway ? That she can't be professional ? She doesn't need him to play the role of her mother. She doesn't need to rest at home or get checked by a doctor. She certainly doesn't need them to treat her like a baby. She's not in shock, she's fine.

Deeks was the one to get shot, after all.

All she had was a bruise on her forehead. So like she already said a thousand times, she's fine. They don't need to keep her from the investigation. They don't need to look at her like something terrible happened and things won't ever be the same.

Why wouldn't they ? Deeks was shot, it's not like he's dead. She's not stupid. Okay, the guy can't breathe on his own, and he hasn't woken up for two days. So what ? She knows him, he's her partner. He loves that delicate image of his, but he's strong, he'll make it.

Nothing can happen to him, to _them_. He says she's Wonder Woman and Wonder Woman would never have a sissy as a sidekick. So why does no one listen to her ?

She's not denying what happened to him is serious, she knows it was a close call. She perfectly knows the bullet just passed his heart by an inch. How can they think she doesn't know ? _She_ applied pressure with _her_ hands on his bloody chest till the ambulance came, after all.

She just doesn't want to think that she prevented him from bleeding to death, biting her lips so she wouldn't waste her energy crying or screaming, so he wouldn't make it through surgery after. How is that denial ? It's faith. Trust. She trusts him not to let her down.

She owes him a beer for the rest of his life, and she's not ready to stop right now.

So he's gonna be fine and she is fine. And if he was awake, he would tell her not to say she's fine when she's not. But he's not. He's not awake and maybe he's not fine, so he's not in position to judge her. She might not be fine either, but who cares ?

He would, if he was awake. But then again, he's going to wake up and crack a joke and everything will be fine again, so why waste time thinking otherwise ? Maybe thinking he's gonna get better doesn't really help him, but it's helping her. And thinking he's gonna die won't, so she's made her choice.

Denial, they call it.


	2. Chapter 2

She hears Callen calling her name through the glass of the window, but she doesn't lower it. She just stays there, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are turning white, her head slumped onto it, her eyes close firmly shut.

She hears him opening the passenger door and then he's climbing into the car, sitting next to her. He doesn't reach for her nor does he say a thing. He just waits for her to let him know what she needs from him. Well, he knows what she _wants_ – working with them, punching the guy who shot her partner, but that's not what she needs. She needs to be with _him_. And if something should happen to Deeks, she needs to be there till the very last moment; she wouldn't want him to be alone. And truth be told, right now she doesn't want to be alone either.

"I know I can't go to OSP right now", she says, and though her voice is muffled, he gets it. "I know. Doesn't mean I don't wish I could. Did the guy tell you anything ?"

"He wants a deal. He won't give us a name till he's sure we're offering him immunity."

"You can't do that", Kensi tells him, and her tone isn't pleading. She's giving him an order. "He shot Deeks. You can't let him go free."

"I know, Kens, but –"

"There's no buts! That guy shot a federal agent, that has to mean something, right ?"

"Deeks isn't a fed, Kens", Callen says softly, quickly adding, " Don't get me wrong, I don't want a thing more than locking him for the rest of his life, but we do need to find out what he knows. I'm sure you understand."

Agent Blye does, but Kensi doesn't and can't. She can't understand that this man will walk as a free man when Deeks – when she's not even sure if Deeks is gonna make it.

They say that once you're done denying the overwhelming evidence that everything is _not_ fine, once you finally admit that the unthinkable did happen, you get angry. Anger becomes your new friend, the only that understands you. You're mad at yourself, mad at the one that got away, mad at everyone. Right now, Kensi's mad at Callen. Her stomach clench just at the sight of him this healthy when her _friend,_ her partner in crime is somewhere between life and death. She's mad at Callen for being understanding and compassionate and his soft tone is making her sick. She's mad at him for ordering her to stay here and do nothing, and even though she knows deep down he only has her best interests at heart, she wants to punch him so bad it's scaring her. Callen has been her friend for so long she never thought she would ever feel this for him; sheer anger that comes so closely to hatred it's making her heart go crazy.

"I can come in with you, if you want. But it's not me you need to see. It's not me you need to be with. Just go back to your partner, Kens. Stay there with him, he needs you too."

That's when she snaps. That she needs Deeks right now, she can't deny it, even if she'll never admit it in front of anyone, at least out loud; but _he_ certainly wouldn't want her by his side.

"You don't understand a thing, do you ?", she almost yells, fury clear on her features. "It's my fault he got shot! What good can it be for him to have me in there ?"

"It's not your fault, Kens. Shit happens. This time it's Deeks, maybe it'll be you someday. You would want him to feel guilty about it ?", Callen asks, his blue eyes soothing and calm but it does nothing but make Kensi even madder.

"It is my fault! That bullet was for _me_!"

"It's _instinct_, Kens", he says, stretching her name, trying to get her to remember he's not her enemy and that she isn't this hateful person she is right now. "Your life and security were threatened and Deeks had only two ways to respond. He tackled you to save you. It was _his_ choice, you can't blame yourself for what _he_ did. And if it had been me, I would've done just the same."

"I don't need to be saved", Kensi yells, slamming her door open so hard it comes in contact with the car parker next to hers. "He should have never done that! And if he dies, it'll be on me because he thought I wasn't good enough to take care of myself!"

She runs back to the entrance of the hospital and Callen just watches her. It needed to be out; she had to say it. He knows she did; they've seen her in denial for two days and now she's angry. She's angry at Deeks for tackling her down so she wouldn't take the bullet; she's angry at herself because she thinks he only did so because she might be weaker. And Kensi Blye isn't weak.

She can't understand right now that it's what partners do, they have each other's back. Deeks didn't push her to the ground to save her, nor did he think she needs his protection. He did it because you can't control instinct; he did it because he saw _her_ life before _his_ eyes and his body just acted on its own. But the way she sees it, she's the one responsible for him being injured.

She didn't even have her back to their suspect. It was supposed to be a simple mission, just go and get the guy back to the boat shed; Sam and Callen weren't even there. But the guy couldn't just run into a dark alley and get himself corned like a rabbit, no, that wouldn't be fun. He had to run into an old warehouse and hide himself behind boxes and have the perfect angle to shoot Kensi without her seeing him. But Deeks did. And though it was virtually impossible for him to run the distance that separated them before the bullet hit her, he did.

He did and Kensi saw the scene in slow motion, falling back on the ground, his strong arms pushing her down before she felt something wet on her bare arms; his blood. She still sees it when she closes her eyes, so that's why she hasn't slept for the past couple of days.

She hadn't got up, she hadn't screamed; she just watched him as he fell to the ground and she didn't care about their suspect anymore. She ran to him and pressed her hands on his chest, not even taking a look around to check if their suspect was still there. She didn't dare to take her phone and dial 911 because she was scared he'd lose too much blood if she stopped keeping on applying pressure and…

Kensi doesn't even remember how things happened after this. She knows the ambulance finally came and Deeks was taken away from her. Sam and Callen met her at the hospital but she doesn't remember calling anyone. Maybe it's instinct, like Callen said. Maybe not.

Instinct would have kicked in and told her their suspect was aiming at her, if she really had it. She doesn't even trust herself anymore right now.

She enters his room, ready to ask him why he did that, to shake him until he answers. She wants to know so badly why he thought she was some damsel in distress that needed him. She wants to tell him that if a bullet is for her, then he has to accept to be the one to stand by her death bed. She wants to say so many things.

So she tells him. She still is at the threshold of the door, and for now she can't think straight because she's seeing red. "We're not married, Deeks! We're partners. You don't get to pull that "Until death do us part" crap on me! You hear me ? So wake up, right now!"

But then she allows her eyes to wander on him, and the only thing she feels is guilt.

It's because of her he's there. Because of the nature of their relationship, because it's never been _just_ a working partnership. Because of the care behind the banter. Because of the way he always puts her first.

The guy took a bullet for her, she can't deny it anymore. This thing about trusting each other and always being there, it's not just words.

"Why did you have to do that ?", she asks, her eyes watering now, but she holds back the tears. "I'm so sorry, Deeks. I just wish I could – I hate you ! You make me feel so –", she bursts out, her hands instantly coming to cover her mouth.

She slumps into the chair and even if it's anger and guilt that build up tears into her eyes, they're tears anyway, tears that finally roll down on her cheeks after two long days of holding them back. Years, actually. The guilt she had felt when he was first shot for not training him well enough washes over her again, adding its insufferable weight to the hatred and disgust she feels for herself right now.

"I know it's my fault, Deeks. And know that I'd do anything to erase and rewind and – but why did you do that ? I know it sounds horrible but I hate what you did. I hate what it might mean between us, I hate that you're here because of me."

So she sits there for almost an hour, telling him all the things she hates about him right now. And though hate is a strong word, it's the only one that comes up. She hates him for being this chivalrous, she hates him for leaving her alone to deal with the mess, and she hates all the feelings that are overwhelming her. She's angry at him and the next minute she hates herself for almost losing him.

Survivor's guilt, they call it, although it might be too soon to say things like this. Marty Deeks is a surprising guy; don't count out him until you meet him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Maybe I'm a bad person, but seeing Kensi open up herself through grief is so nice to write I can't seem to be able to stop. But I'm sure you know just how much I love Deeks by now, so keep faith. Every cloud has a silver lining, they say. Thanks to all of you for the alerts, favorites or reviews, you're great !**

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><p>Her eyes are still a bit puffy when the nurse comes in, a couple of hours later. She avoids Kensi's gaze, probably scared of upsetting her again.<p>

"I'm sorry for earlier", she tells Kensi as she checks on Deeks's vitals. "It must be hard enough for you without everyone asking you if you're fine."

"You don't have to apologize. I've been quite rude with you. It's just – no matter how many times one of us ends up here, it doesn't get any easier", Kensi sighs, leaning in, her elbows on the railing of Deeks's bed.

There's this part of her that wants to reach for him but she feels like there are still some boundaries not to cross. If she allows herself to hold his hand and weep, then it's like she's admitting it's over; like all she can do is mourn, sitting there, helpless.

"What's on that screen ?", she asks, pointing at one of the machines connected to her partner.

"That's his brain activity."

On any average day, Kensi would say that it's impossible because Deeks doesn't use his brain. But right now, she feels a little lighter for the first time in days because that means that there's at least one part of his body that still works. Not his finest – sure, the guy's smart, but he's even hotter – but at least he's not completely gone.

"You see these peaks ? They tend to happen whenever you're talking to him. I can't say if he'll remember any of it when he wakes up, but he can hear you. I'm sure it's helping him."

Kensi is glad she said "when he wakes up", and not _if_. "Why doesn't he wake up then ?"

"His body isn't strong enough for now. But keep talking to him. We've seen lots of patients waking up and saying that they could hear everything. Ask him to come back. I'm sure he can feel you and he might just move a finger or reject the tubing, it'd be a great start."

Kensi wants to say she already asked; _begged_, even. But yelling at him might have not been of a great help. "I'll try."

"Good. I won't have to go in and check him until tomorrow morning, but if you need me, I'll be just out there. Tell me if you ever change your mind about that cot."

The nurse smiles at her softly and then closes the curtains of the room and leaves, leaving Kensi wondering. Deeks can hear her, that's what she said, right ? So she may just have to find the one thing that would make him wake up.

She scoots the chair closer to his bed and her voice is just a whisper when she says: "So tell me what it takes, Deeks. Just tell me what you want from me. I'll do anything, okay ?"

The only answer she gets is the beeping of his monitors, and Kensi lifts up her face to look at the screen by his bed. "She said you can hear me. I'm asking you to wake up. It's not that much, uh ? You want me to hold your hand like in these stupid, cheesy movies ? I can do that. I'll even let you mock me for it."

She tentatively takes his hand in hers and it feels so intimate she shouldn't be at-ease with it. But she is. Holding Deeks's hand isn't weird or anything, it feels right. They're partners and she usually tells him to back off when he gets too handsy, but right now, she's been craving for his touch for so long she can't say it doesn't feel good.

The thing is, she knows she's a pretty good shot. He is too, but together ? They're damn extraordinary. As partners, as friends lately, and maybe as something more someday. When there won't be any bad guy anymore, that is. Because right now they're partners and she shouldn't have these thoughts. They're scary and dangerous because she's longing to see his blue eyes again, and that's not something you say about someone who is supposed to just be your partner.

His blue eyes, his smile, even his teasing. This quiet Deeks is not the Deeks she has learnt and grown to L-O-V-E. It sounds better if she doesn't say the word, even in her own mind; spelling is good.

"You can drive my car. You can choose the radio station. I'll share my donuts with you. We can bring Monty with us everyday", she rambles. "Aren't those the things you always complain about ? I'm giving in. What else do you want ?"

She squeezes his hand and her grip is almost painful, but Deeks doesn't flinch. If her thumb wasn't stroking and feeling his pulse, she'd wonder if his heart was still beating.

"Come on, Deeks, just tell me! Move a finger, blink your eyes, just do something, _please_."

Here, she said it. But it does nothing.

Offering him everything he's ever wanted isn't enough. Her eyes roam over him, from his pale face to the bandages wrapped around his chest, covering the fresh new scar adding itself to the others he already had, and she feels the tears about to threaten again. She bites her lip to hold them back and moves her free hand to his hair, tentatively brushing it away from his forehead.

"Please don't leave me, Deeks. I know I'm not always the greatest partner but I need you not to leave me. I can't have _you_ gone. I promise I'll be better so please don't leave."

She sighs as he still doesn't answer, and she lets her head fall on their linked hands. She's not one to beg, ever. She's been abducted, she's been tortured, but she never begged. Deeks is the only one who can make her go to this kind of extremes. Begging, yelling, crying her heart out. Only Deeks can do that, and though it's scaring her, she can't help but think that it might not be this bad.

With him, she gets closer to being the Kensi she once was, and getting to draw a line between her and the agent side is unhoped-for. It hurts, it hurts like hell right now, but it reminds her that there are other things apart from her job, other things to come home to, other things to care about. And Deeks is the only one that has a special place in both parts of her life.

"Please don't take him away from me", she pleads, not really knowing whom she is begging. "Just give me – give us another chance."

Kensi Blye doesn't pray; she's not that into this hoping thing either. She prefers action. But nothing she has tried worked, so at some point, she doesn't care anymore. If she has to offer up her soul to get him back, she will. If she has to sink to her knees and pray, she will. If she has to sit by his bed for the rest of her life, then she'll do it. For him, there's nothing she wouldn't do. To get him back, to get _them_ back. To hear his stupid laugh again, mock him when he tells the punch line wrong; to hear him singing in the car, punch him when he does, bear his pouting for the rest of the day.

Because that's the truth; she loves every stupid thing about him and them. She loves that he knows her favorite donuts, she loves carpooling with him, she loves the way he always finds his way under her skin. She loves how they can communicate without speaking, she loves the way her stuff always smells like the ocean after he touched it. And she even tolerates that she's become one of these corny girls in movies that sit by the hero's deathbed. Except that they're not in a Disney movie, she's not a princess and crying over his body won't turn him into a prince or somehow save him.

Maybe their story ends today and neither of them gets to be a hero.

"This is not how the story ends, Deeks. We're partners, it means that we promise each other to always be there. This ?", she says in a low voice, her hand softly brushing his wound, "it's you backing out on your part of the deal. So please, prove me wrong. Show me how stubborn you are and fight back. You can't just stay there while I'm telling you all of this. I know you can hear me, so you know _this_ isn't me. But here I am begging. So please, meet me halfway."

She lets her fingers drift upward until they meet his jaw. "I'm holding your hand. I'm letting myself be this caring, cheesy girl. I cried, Deeks! I yelled at you and I told you I hated you but I still cried. What else do you want ?"

Kensi lifts their hands and puts them under her chin, deep in thoughts. "Why do you always have to make things so complicated, _Marty_ ?"


	4. Chapter 4

**This didn't come out right. A depressed Kensi isn't easy to deal with so I'm sorry if she feels too OOC. Just let me know what you think.**

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><p>The morning of the fourth day brings good news, or at least they should be.<p>

It's still dark when Kensi is startled awake all of a sudden by the sound of someone suffocating and an unusual beeping she had never heard until now. She gets up fast from the chair she had been napping on to run to Deeks's bed, only to see his eyes flutter open as he chokes on his tubing.

She fights against the urge to get lost in the blue eyes she's longed to see for the past three days and though she'd want to stay by his side and tell him that everything is going to be okay, she knows she has to go and get someone. "Just calm down Deeks, it's me. I'm just gonna get someone to help you but you have to relax, don't fight back", she says soothingly, her voice yet lightly shaking with emotion as she smoothes his hair away from his face. "I'll be right back, I'm not leaving you."

He lifts his hand to grab her wrist and it's killing her to pull back, but yet she does so, taking her arm away from him to run outside. Fortunately, she immediately meets a doctor who has been alarmed by the ringing in the room and soon enough, they are joined by a nurse too. They're checking on Deeks, taking the tubing off and trying to calm him down, but Kensi can see the look of utter panic in his eyes, and she's sure it's there in hers too. Deeks moves his head from side to side quickly, looking for her, and she comes closer to the bed and takes his hand in hers.

"Everything's okay, Deeks", she tells him, and he blinks his eyes a few times as he tries to regulate his breathing. "Don't waste your energy talking. Just let the doctor take care of you, I'm right here."

"Listen to your friend, Marty", the nurse says. "You've been out for a long time so take it easy. Can you squeeze my hand if you understand ?"

But Deeks doesn't. His chest heaves up as he seems to hyperventilate before coughing hard. And that's when Kensi knows things are not okay, because there are drops of blood flying out of his mouth and landing on his naked chest. She doesn't know what happens next, because just the sight of his blood is enough to send a shiver through her body that makes her legs tremble and buckle hard, and then she feels the arms of someone around her, dragging her to the chair.

Kensi has never been sick because of blood, not even afraid or disgusted. When she was a kid, she was an outdoor kind of girl and used to play in the woods or climb to trees so she's used to scratches and bloody bruises all over. But three days ago, Deeks lost so much blood on her she can't see him bleed again, ever. Not so soon, at least.

And maybe it's also because she hasn't eaten or slept properly in days, but she feels like she's about to faint. She feels sweat gathering at the nape of her neck and on her forehead and the soothing, fresh hands that roam over her face can't prevent her from blacking out.

When she comes out of it, she's taken aback to see she's lying on a hospital bed. She tries to sit up but her head is still spinning and that's when she realizes her left arm is connected to an intravenous injection and that she's wearing one of these hideous hospital gowns.

One quick look around tells her that she's alone, but above all, she has no idea of where she is and where Deeks is. She doesn't recognize the room but she knows it's not Deeks's because you can see the parking lot from his window and she can only catch a glimpse of another building from hers.

She doesn't get much time to think as the door opens and Hetty comes in.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you're up, dear", she says, settling in the chair by Kensi's bed and gently patting her hand. "You've scared us, Ms. Blye."

"What about Deeks ?", Kensi asks, her eyes wide. "Where is he ? Is he okay ? Last thing I remember is –"

"Please calm down, Kensi. Mr. Deeks is as fine as he can be, due to the circumstances. You should worry more about yourself."

"What's this ?", she asks, gesturing to the injection.

"Glucose infusion. You were so sugar-low the doctors had to check you in. Sleep deprivation and one chocolate bar in three days can't do your body any good. You should be happy you're not worse."

"I don't care. What about Deeks ?"

A small smile graces Hetty's lips at Kensi's determination, but it almost instantly goes off. "The doctors had him sedated because he was very fidgety."

"What about the blood ? He spat blood, Hetty. You can't tell me he's okay if he's not. I want to know the truth", she says, her tone firm.

"Mr. Deeks is fine. His lung was damaged when he got shot but the surgeon fixed it. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. He'll wake up in a few hours and you'll be able to see him."

Kensi leans back against her pillow and links her fingers together, looking down at them. "Did he…has he said something ?"

Hetty's brow furrows for a second but then she gets up and pats Kensi's knee affectionately. "Stop beating yourself up, Kensi. I'm sure your partner can't wait to see you too."

She leaves the room and Kensi is alone again, trapped in the dark corners of her scary mind. Visions of Deeks spitting blood, his eyes going crazy with fear, are haunting her. And all the things she's never told him, all the things she's never done are joining the nightmare.

She tries and coaxes the nurse who comes to take care of her into taking her to his room. She begs, she says she'll even let her wheel her there, but the nurse refuses. That's when Kensi loses it. The tears are rolling down on her cheeks with her totally unable to control them. She wouldn't have been able to fake them if she had wanted to.

Kensi tells her that now he's come out of his coma, she can't risk losing him again without telling him how she feels. And she's lucky Nurse Penny is a big romantic at heart because that seems to convince her. She warns her that she could get into big trouble for doing this but Kensi swears she'll tell her chief she threatened her and anyone who knows Kensi knows she would do it.

She stops dead in tracks when she reaches the door of his bed because even if he looks better than earlier in the day, a part of her hoped he'd be awake and joking as usual, greeting her with a grin or a smirk and mocking her about how emotional she's been. But he doesn't because he's sleeping soundly.

She doesn't know from where it's coming, but once she's walked the little distance that separated them, she puts the railing of his bed down and hops up in there next to him. At first, she just sits there but he has scared her so much she needs to feel him, to be sure he's really there and alive. She doesn't want to hurt him so she hesitates for a few seconds before resting some of her weight against him. She lifts his arm to settle closer to him and she carefully lies by his side, her head nudged by his shoulder, one arm tucked between them as the other comes to wrap itself loosely across his chest. His soothing breath fans over her head and she tries to focus on the steady beat of his heart, but she can't help the tears gathering in her eyes again.

She holds them back, though. "I'm sorry, Marty. For everything I did wrong. And I know it won't change a thing but I really am. You're a great friend, you're a good man and I keep pushing you back even when you're the only one to care enough to push in the first place. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry you ended up here because I couldn't take care of myself."

She buries her face in his neck and she immediately misses his natural, salty, totally Deeks scent, masked by that hospital fragrance of antiseptic and death. "I never told you how much I love working with you. I always take you for granted. But I almost lost you so be sure I'll never do that again. I know I'm not much of a talker and that I always tell you to shut up but for once I think I have things I need to say – things I should say. Because you deserve to know. I _can't_ lose you, very _simple_, very _true_. I need you. And I don't need anyone, so you know this means a lot from me. I need you around, I need you to keep me grounded, I need you to crack a joke to lighten the mood. I need you to have my back. You're the only one I trust with my life. And I hate myself for not being able to return the favor to you. I know you have every right to hate me when you wake up but I really hope you don't because I just don't know what I'd do without you…It's selfish but I can't help it."

She lifts herself and braces her weight with her elbows, shifting until her legs are draped around both his sides. "I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I can't live without you, Marty. And I'm sorry we call you Deeks all the time; it's even worse from me because we are partners and you mean so much more to me than just any coworker", she says, the urge to kiss him better hard to resist. "I'm sorry if I ever let you think any different. So please, now just wake up so I can tell you all of this all over again. It won't be easy and it's not easy now either, but I need to tell you just how much you mean to me. And I feel terrible for needing you almost dying to realize it."

She softly leans in to brush her lips to his scruffy jaw, lingering there for over a minute before climbing out of the bed. She rummages through his stuff to take his jacket and she slides it over herself, sighing happily as she inhales his scent. She laughs a bit as she imagines what she must look like with that pale blue gown and his leather jacket, but her laughter dies when her eyes settle on him again, the pain, the fear and the guilt washing over her.

But right now, of all the feelings that have overwhelmed her for the past few days, it's an immense sadness that sinks into her. Because she realizes that even if she spends the rest of her life making up to him for everything she's done, she won't ever get the time she lost back. All these months saying she didn't like him, all this misdirected anger and frustration thrown at his face although he wasn't the one to blame for what she had gone through. Somehow, all their issues were mostly due to her; her lack of trust, her dislike of being partnered up again, her insecurities. But he accepted it all because he's better than her, a better person, a better friend.

The best thing that ever happened to her.

So that's why she can't help sobbing as she settles back into bed with him. She doesn't even try to control it because she feels so bad she knows she can't maintain that poker face she usually has and behind which she hides everything. She's used to bottle up her emotions but right now, it all comes out.

"There's so many things I wish I hadn't done, and so many I should have", she manages to say between sharp intakes of breath, her face nuzzled in his chest, "just don't let me live with all these regrets, please."

"Stop crying", a hoarse voice says over her head.


	5. Chapter 5

"Marty!", she says with a huge smile on her face as she lifts her eyes to meet his. "Oh God, you're up!"

"Marty ?", he asks, cocking an eyebrow, "you only call me Marty in my dreams. You only _hug_ me in those too. And you _definitely_ don't wear my clothes or yours", he adds as he notices his jacket on her shoulders, a small grin on his lips.

He closes his eyes, anticipating the punch she's supposed to throw at his shoulder or another vital part of his anatomy she loves practicing shooting at in the firing range. But the punch doesn't come. Instead, he feels arms linking around his neck and tears rolling onto his skin. And that's also when he's suddenly very aware of her body pressed against his, but mostly of the sharp pain in his chest as she's totally sprawled over him. But he just breathes through gritted teeth, because even though he must have crossed some parallel gap and landed on Earth-II, this feels beyond amazing and he won't let this go easily.

"Oh no, Kens, don't cry again, I'm sorry –", he mumbles, absolutely not knowing what to do with her. Kensi Blye sobbing in his arms isn't something that happens so often, you see. Or maybe it does in that world.

She pulls back to look at him, horror spreading on her features. "Don't say you're sorry, you did nothing wrong. _I_ am sorry!"

"Okay, okay", he replies, clearly having no clue at what's going on. "Why are you crying ? You _don't_ cry. I'm not dead, am I ?", he asks, one of his hands coming to pat his body. "I don't feel like I'm dead."

"Don't joke about it!", Kensi says and the look of concern and pain in her eyes makes him shut up instantly.

She can't blame him, though. She knows he's used to hide many things behind his jokes. Irony is his best friend because it's easier to tease her about wanting him than to think she may even not appreciate him as her partner. And for once, Kensi reckons she might be to blame too for letting him think so.

She's bracing herself with her hands around him, leaning back as far as she can to look at him, still close enough to feel his breath on her. Her legs are tangled with his over the sheets but Deeks doesn't seem to react. He's just staring at her as if he were trying to process what's happening. Because Kensi doesn't hug him. The last and only time he had her in his arms was when they've been blown up by an explosion, so it's not like Kensi is one to hug him willingly. She slaps his hands when they get too adventurous, she punches him, she brushes his fingers when she steals his food, but she doesn't show any particular display of affection. She teases him, mocks him, gives him some humiliating nicknames, but she doesn't cry over him. That's not his Kensi.

But then again, they are not today who they were when they were first partnered up. They're not the same people as just a few months before either. Lots of things happened since the last time he's got shot. She's opened up to him in ways he had never dared to imagine, she's told him he was the only person she trusted, she has let him in secrets she had never shared with anyone else. So maybe the Kensi he thought he knew is just a façade that has been crumbling apart for quite some time now. Maybe _his girl_ doesn't know how to express the worry and the fear she has felt for days, and maybe that's why she's lying on top of him, her hot tears sliding on his neck, her mismatched eyes confused, yet filled with the unconcealed joy to finally see him awake.

The only surprising thing is that he's not hugging her back. So that's what he finally does. He wraps one arm around her back to bring her fully against him, anchoring her in place, and she doesn't resist. His other hand comes to her head and he looks up at the ceiling as he softly strokes her hair, still quite not believing this is happening.

"You weren't crying, whenever I pictured you in my arms", he says. "I'm known to be a gentleman, I don't make girls – women cry."

"I'm not crying, I just have something in my eye", she says with just the slightest hint of exasperation to make a smile appear on his face. But it's not enough to get him to believe her. Hell, she doesn't even try to convince him very hard.

"Here, that's my girl!", he laughs lightly against her ear, and she just snuggles up closer to him. "What ? No comment on my comment ? Fern, I'm okay now, you can kick me and scream at me!"

"I don't want to kick you", she says, her voice so low he barely hears her. "God, Marty, I won't ever do anything to hurt you ever again."

"Where is this coming from ?", he asks, tugging gently at her shoulders to pull her up. "Kens ? What do you mean ? Oh no, don't tell me you think this is your fault ?"

She avoids his gaze and that's all he needs to know. That's also when he notices the dark purple rings under her eyes, the way her usually tanned skin is incredibly pale and even if his body hurts like hell just at the contact of her slender one against his, he's sure she's lost a couple of pounds.

"Okay, come here again", he says as he takes her back into his arms, wincing the moment she touches him. She tries to pull back but he holds onto her arm. "Just – just lie on my other side, would you ?"

She moves over and snuggles at his right side, careful not to wrap her arm too strongly across his torso. Under any other circumstances, Deeks would mock her for being this cuddly but you don't almost die every day, do you ?

"Okay, so I'm gonna do the talking part now and you're not interrupting me till I'm done, Princess. You have the right to nod, though", he adds, and she nods against his chest. "Good. You're my partner, Kens. This means it's my job to have your back. So when a bad guy aims at you, punches you, hits you…I aim, punch and hit back. And yeah, sometimes it sucks because getting shot hurts like a bitch. But for you ? I'd do it all over again. If I could erase and rewind, I'd do the exact same thing, and you'd too for me. Because that's what partners do. But you're not just my partner. You're my friend, and friends don't just stand by and watch as the people they love get hurt. You're hugging me, so I guess it was worth it. We should do that hugging thing more often. Maybe write down some rules about a lot more of PDAs."

"You're an idiot", Kensi sighs, her breath tickling him.

"I told you not to interrupt me."

"Your voice went down at the end, so I just thought you were done", she teases. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you ?"

"I think I like hugging you just as much as you seem to, so maybe we should just keep this to ourselves, don't you think ? You can't imagine how many times I've yearned for that. I just never thought you were the hugging type. Nor the crying over my deathbed kind of girl either, now I come to think of it."

She doesn't smack him so he guesses it's too early to joke about it. But she doesn't pull back either, so it must be a good sign. And if it's only a dream – the only possibility, really, come on – then it's the best he's ever had. Even better than the ones that begin with her taking her clothes off, not that he fantasies about it very much, but hey, he's a guy with a really beautiful partner, so who can blame him ?

"I'm sorry I scared you and got you to worry like mad", he finally says. "But honestly ? I'd rather have you worrying over me than the reverse. If you were in there, I'd go even crazier. Just seeing you with this tired look makes me sick, so I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through for the past four days. So I'll try to wake up sooner next time."

She laughs. She didn't know she could still laugh but she does, the sound reverberating against his skin. Deeks laughs too and winces as he does so, breathing hard against the pain. But it's the sweetest pain he's ever felt, because he managed to make her see the bright side of things again and that's the part of his job he loves the most; making Kensi become less dark and twisty. It can sound pretty broken but he knows just how much one small smile from her can mean. He knows she doesn't show or talk about her feelings easily so getting to be the one to make her share and pour her heart out is the biggest accomplishment of his life.

Something he's proud of.

Getting to be the one she snuggles up to is pretty cool, too.

"It's not your fault, Kens", he says softly as he rubs his hand on her arm. "It's no one's. I'll always be there for you. You remember what I told you when I first left ? I told you I'd be back. And I came back. Not as ravishingly handsome and in shape as I thought I would, but I came back. You guys might have helped me, but in the end, the important thing is that I'd never willingly leave you or hurt you. You have me, okay ? I'm not just some guy, I'm me and you are you and we are _us_ and this is really getting cheesy", he smiles down at her, "the thing is, you have to accept that sometimes life just isn't fair, but it doesn't have to be on you all the time. You can play the nurse with me if you want to make it up to me though."

"Is it how the dream sequence starts ?", she asks, and though she tries to make it sound like she doesn't really care, her voice is shaking a bit.

"Some of them, yeah."

She reckons this should be awkward – having her partner stroking her hair and arm while talking about his fantasies about her. But it's not. None of it is. She shouldn't feel like this, but she does. She feels like she can breathe properly for the first time since he's been shot. She feels happy, _content_. And maybe for the first time in her life, she really is _fine_.

Maybe she feels this way because he seems to feel the same. Because he _does_ feel it too. Because he's not making this awkward. Because he's _Deeks_ and that seems to be enough to explain it all.

Deeks, Marty, whichever, really; partner, friend, best friend. For better or for worse, but mostly for the best, since the day he's come into her life.

"Oh, Kens ? That thing you said about us not being married…", he suddenly says and she stills against him, holding her breath. "I spend my day with you, some nights, _most_ nights", he corrects, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "I tell you everything, I trust you, I miss you when I don't see you…So maybe we're not married but as far as I'm concerned, only death will pull us apart. Either by me getting shot again since I'm quite accident-prone, or by you killing me. Either way, I'm fine with it. As long as I get to spend time with you."

"How much did you hear ?", she asks anyway.

"Enough to know you have a pathological tendency to blame yourself for everything. But mostly, enough to know that I am not the only one with a huge crush on my partner."

"Oh yeah ?"

"Uh-huh. But I reckon you had guessed, right ? After all, I don't jump in front of a bullet for just anyone."

Kensi smiles and Deeks hugs her closer. Maybe he's right, for once; maybe it was worth it, in the end.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, this is how the story looked like in my head when it first popped up. I wanted Kensi to go through the pain until Deeks would help her come out of it. But I guess I could go on, since it's turned into more of a romance. Just let me know what you think.<strong>


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